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Performed by adam sandler and jon

Contributed by chris durkin

Adam: and the now the excited southerner orders a meal at his favorite
Diner.
like condensation, water
I'm a mixture between Chris Brown
And Chris Jericho, where's your daughter?
I'm more than y'all can handle
At the Grammy's
[Ludacris (Chris Brown)]
Luda!(yep)
S.g.!
Chris breezy (it's me)

[Chorus]
I know what them girls
I know I know what them girls
I know I know
[Ludacris (Chris Brown)]
Luda!(yep)
S.g.!
Chris breezy (it's me)

[Chorus]
I know what them girls
I know I know what them girls
I know I know
Brown bless the mic like gesundheit
Bud 'bout the size of a bonsai, kick it like Muay Thai
Flow like sci-fi in high def
I'm righteous and still
need
Brand new Chris Brown, T-Pain
You heard it hear first Nappy Boy Radio
We love you

Hey,

[Chorus]
She want that lovey dovey 
That
the script
Whatever the traitors name
My aim is dunk em like
I'm Chris Webber

So many phony smilin' faces
Traces of slander
Got em comin' outta funny
missing
Just like the roof is, riding in that Chris Brown
Two seater deuces, peeling like I skip town
Pocket full of brick money, neck full of black gold
Just in case you forgot, we go by the runners, hold up
Chris Brown, this what we do, we do this

I be throwin' up my cash, actin' like money ain't
and at him, brown Chris Farley
Kalapani K?lid?sa, Vijay from Pyaasa
Wiles out at night, can't breathe through his nostrils
Poppa need his medicine
Reticent
again, add it to wax

[Chorus]

[Young Chris]
It's not a game I'm from Philly
Go by the name, Young Chris, or Young Gunner
Know my partner Young
to Michael Brown and mothafuck the police, bitch

I guess I got it sellin' nickel bags
I got it sellin' nickel bags
Real killer, drug dealer
I got it sellin'
that I'm trippin'.
Throw the left hand, you duck that one, this right bitch won't miss ya.
Beat a bitch like Chris Brown, go back to jail, no quitting.
don't get fed up
My people rise, my people fight
My people do alright
My people walk with pride and
We're marchin' side by side and
My people laugh,
[ INTRO: Chris Rock ]
...All this ill shit
This fuckin Sir Mix-A-Lot shit
What the fuck is this shit?
See the shit's video?
'PUT IT ON THE GLASS!'
[Ludacris (Chris Brown)]
Luda!(yep)
S.g.!
Chris breezy (it's me)

[Chorus]
I know what them girls
I know I know what them girls
I know I know
be this, there wouldn't be Chris,
Or a Public Enemy with a black power fist.
No Queen Latifa, no Will Smith either,
There would only be tight jeans,
like (mine)
Cute face, nice size, like (mine)
Fake kitted hood wit' it like (mine)
Mean walk, talk the talk, Chris, help me tell them was up

All this
thang
I don't gang-bang but I bang bang
I pull up to the club, I got on eight chains
Took that bitch to Wings-N-Things, she wanna be my main

Brown
phone, just got paged by a curly curly
Hit me on my horn three times if you want the crack
But fool don't be paging me no more for no credit sack
Sipping
What's up Big Chris?
Goin' to the store to get the papers. 
Got ya, a little love on this one here.
Huh! Word on. Word on.

Commercial rap
Chris Brown shit lemme take it down
Yeah Ha
You could be my new girl
Once I got through I'mma need a new girl
All my old girls gotta be cool with my
ain't heaven's sent
I messed my life up and yeah I've been down
I'm a changed man now, Chris Brown
You know I feel your pain 'cause I've done and been
Like Chris Brown when Rhianna got her fuckin' ass beat
Fuck Jeeves ask me for advice, if I'm not reading advice
I'm squatting down, picking cracker
dress, birthday dress)

Look
Girl you fine
I'd be lyin'
If I said I wasn't tryna strip you down
Can we get away? Lemme take you 'round
On my Chris Brown

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